


but i love you most of all

by Nyxierose



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Ficlet Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-10 06:44:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 12,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6970459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxierose/pseuds/Nyxierose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of prompt fills and other ficlets, Linctavia style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. catnap

**Author's Note:**

> Since I'm terrible at remembering to crosspost from my tumblr ([@electricbluebutterflies](http://electricbluebutterflies.tumblr.com)), and since I do this for other ships as well, I figured a ficlet collection makes sense. Each of these is its own standalone beastie unless otherwise noted. Title is from "A Song For Milly Michaelson" by Thrice. Enjoy!!

Combat training is kicking Octavia’s ass.

Correction - basically everything is kicking Octavia’s ass this week, and no she totally doesn’t have the flu or whatever the fuck it is that has sidelined half the community. At least she’s pretty sure she doesn’t. What she _is_  sure of is she’s got a headache, at least one pulled muscle in her lower leg, and an abundance of bruises that are gonna be all kinds of fun to explain to her boyfriend when he sees them.

(Seriously though. Lincoln’s personality is just layer after layer of surprises, but the one Octavia can’t get over is that he’s a compulsive worrier. Which, given her tendency towards disaster and _his_ tendency towards getting stuck rescuing her, might actually be a learned behavior… she’s really not sure, and it’s sweet, but… also sometimes overkill. Like the convo she does not want to have tonight about why basically her entire left thigh is the same color as her favorite tank top.)

She decides to get out before she ends up in medical again - twice in one week just looks bad - and goes home, strips down to her shirt and underwear and collapses onto the bed. She is _done_  with today, and she is not getting out from under the blanket pile until morning unless she needs to pee, and that is final.

At some point she falls asleep, and the next thing she processes is a comforting weight settling onto the other half of the mattress.

“You okay?” her lover murmurs, and she _knows_  that tone of voice.

Octavia opens her eyes and shakes her head. “Probably sick, babe. Nothing too terrible. I just need to sleep it off.” She glances away from him for a moment, looks towards the window and sees that it’s still light out. “What are you doing back so early?”

“Gathering trip was uneventful. No wildlife trouble, and the others are starting to do well on their own. Another few weeks, I might not _have_  to go anymore.”

She rolls her eyes. “Will that stop you?”

“Probably not.” Lincoln arranges his body next to hers, reaching out and taking her hand. “But more days like this mean more time with you.”

“Yeah, until I stop being a hazard to myself and get put on overnight guard duty again…”

“That’s not…”

“Rate I’m going, probably never, but still likely enough to be a threat.” She moves her body over his for a moment, kisses him and nips at his lower lip. “Stay with me a while?”

“Yeah.”

She falls asleep again with her head on his chest, and the rest of the world can wait until morning.


	2. sing along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Octavia pulls up into a parking spot, doesn't get out/turn the car off yet so she can finish singing to the song on the radio, and when she does get ready to exit the car she sees Lincoln smiling at her from the sidewalk because he heard every note since she forgot she had the sun roof open."
> 
> Modern AU. Pre-relationship. PG-ish.

Dancey pop songs were made for days like today, Octavia thought as she turned the radio up and howled along. Her singing voice wasn’t that good, she was well aware, but it was midsummer and she was alone in her car and she. did. not. care. The rest of the world was irrelevant until this song was over, even as she maneuvered into the parking lot. She had time on her hands, and she meant to use it.

She’d only heard the song like two times before, but that was irrelevant. Song s like that weren’t hard to learn, and the fact that it had been stuck in her head for like a week didn’t hurt either. She wa sin her element, and it was almost over when she managed to get a _perfect_ parking space, and again she was oblivious. Might as well make the best out of having to get a cute dress for yet another wedding.

Really, the only thing Octavia hadn’t planned for today was the beautiful being staring at her from like ten feet away when she got out of her car. Small, small world.

(She knew Lincoln in passing, same way she knew a lot of people. Couldn’t remember _how_ anymore - maybe one of his friends had dated one of hers? - but he’d been a recurrent presence in her life for a couple years now. And equally recurrent in her fantasies, although she had no intent of doing anything about that.)

He’d heard her. She knew it from the smile on his too-pretty lips, amused but approving. Dammit. She glanced backwards and saw the catalyst, the sunroof she’d forgotten was open, and cursed herself for letting this all happen.

You okay?” he asked, walking towards her.

She felt a blush blossoming across her face. _Definitely_ not okay, thank you very much. “Yeah,” she shrugged. “Fine.”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“No girl wants to embarrass herself in front of someone she’s attracted to,” she said all too quickly. “I know I can’t-”

“You were having fun. No harm in that.” He shifted his weight between feet, staring at her as if uncertain what to say next. “If you want me to forget this ever happened-”

“Please. You don’t like me that much.”

She’d meant it harmless enough, but he appeared almost offended. “What makes you say that?”

“Dunno, you’re just… weird around me.”

“Look, Tae, I like you but you kinda scare me sometimes.”

“Like me like friend or like me like-”

“Like you like I’m not sure how to relationship but I wanna try?”

“Lemme think about i. If I’m still alive in 48 hours, I’ll text you?”

“I can live with that…”


	3. running for.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "a kiss, in hiding".
> 
> Canon-divergent, smutlet.

The third night after they run, he presses his lips to hers as they cling for warmth and her tiny body melts around his larger one. It’s been a long day - long week, really, long _lifetime_  if he’s honest - but he needs the softness of her, the way she opens up and whimpers and shifts against him and oh, she is worth every sacrifice he’s made for her.

It was his choice to run, his choice to pull Octavia away from the fire before it consumed them both. It’s fitting, he thinks, that she saved two little words until the first night. Not just them anymore, no; there’s a new life inside her, something for them to fight for and find a home for.

Sometimes, Lincoln thinks, the universe has really strange timing.

His kisses are sweet but she wants more, says so in the way she moves against him and pushes back harder. His body is all too responsive, and while a rational part of his brain points out that they’re in the middle of fucking nowhere and he doesn’t know this territory well enough to know what nasty wildlife might be lurking, the dominant part of him is overwhelmed with want. It’s been months since they’ve gotten this chance - hell, they can pinpoint exact date of conception because that was the last time they managed anything more than a goodnight kiss - and they might as well take it while they can.

“Pants,” Octavia murmurs. It’s too cold for any further exposure, but they both push the necessary garments down past their knees and hands wander and _oh_.

He feels her desperation as he touches her, gently exploring her folds and finding all the right places to make her whimper and nip at his neck. If things were a little different, he’d bury his face between her legs until both of them forgot how to breathe, but now is neither the time nor the place. No, now it is enough to bat at her pearl with his fingers and remember the night she told him how much she liked his calluses and-

“Want you in me,” she whimpers.

He shifts their bodies so he’s on his back and she hovers above. It’s their favorite position, or at least his since he learned of her origins, and he closes his eyes and growls as she sinks down onto him. Oh, he missed this.

She finds a rhythm, slow and searching, punctuated with long lingering kisses and more little bites. He wishes they were somewhere else, anywhere else, somewhere he could actually _see_  her because he knows in his heart that she is beautiful right now. Not just in the outline form above him but in every form, her skin tensing as they both get closer and closer, building and crashing and-

“We get this now,” she says, rolling off of him with a contented sigh and once more wrapping her body around his. “We get this now, Lincoln.”

“I love you,” he breathes.

Sometimes, he thinks, there are things worth running _for_.


	4. lesser wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "tending an injury".
> 
> Canon-divergent, PG-ish.

After a certain point, wounds don’t exactly register with a person unless they’re life-threatening. Lincoln doesn’t remember when he hit that point beyond “very young”, but it’s been a _while_  since he’s let himself be bothered by anything that won’t kill him. (He realizes his record with near-death experiences is rather impressive, but more mundane injuries... yeah.) So, in the grand scheme of things, a bad landing during combat training and the resulting twisted ankle really aren’t that big a deal.

Apparently, tiny girlfriend has other feelings on the matter.

Octavia is blessedly _not_  present when it happens, having been more necessary elsewhere or some diplomatic phrasing Lincoln didn’t quite follow, but she hears about it within half an hour. He’s amazed that such trivial information travels so quickly, but he’s decidedly less surprised when his partner turns up on the sidelines and pulls him aside.

“Why are you still on your feet?!”

(He has never seen her this mad, and he has seen her with a blade in hand and blood on her skin. He’s not sure how to feel about this.)

“I’ll be fine, Tae.”

“ _Sure_ ,” she counters sarcastically. “I get it, the male lack of self-preservation instincts is strong in you, but... version I heard, you hit your head on the way down and-”

“You heard wrong. Just my ankle. I’ll be-”

“No. Please.” She takes his hand and, for good measure, bats her eyelashes that way that always makes him smile. “I need an excuse to cuddle with you. Is that enough?”

Gods, he’ll never be able to deny her.

On the walk back to their sleep-space, he realizes that maybe he underestimated the injury a little. He’s still pretty sure he’ll be fine in the morning, but resting it might help and-

“You were right,” he murmurs, leaning against their doorframe and steadying himself.

“It’s okay to feel things, love. You taught me that about emotions, and now I guess I get to teach you that about bruises.”

“Next time I should listen to you.”

She leans on tiptoe and kisses his cheek. “Nah. It’d be boring if we actually started doing that.”

He loves when she’s right...


	5. warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "cuddling".
> 
> Canon-divergent'verse.

“You’re warm,” Octavia murmurs, purring as her partner’s embrace tightens around her.

“And you need to be more careful,” Lincoln counters, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Can’t just chase _everything_ , my star.”

She rolls her eyes. “I am not that bad.”

“You are completely that bad and you’re lucky you didn’t-”

“I’ve already gotten this talk from five different people, love. I don’t need it from you.”

“I know, I just... I worry about you, Tae. I know you’re capable, but sometimes...”

“Sometimes I try to outrun a three-legged mutant deer and accidentally end up going for a swim in a lake that none of our people even knew existed and that I didn’t see because there’s a foot of snow on the ground,” she finishes. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“I’m not blaming you. Just... think first, next time?”

She laughs. “You could always keep more of an eye on me...”

“Or I could go on pretending that my wife is a little more functional than she actually is.”

Octavia feels her body heat up from his choice of words. They’ve had _that_  convo - it’s not quite what they are, but it gets the point across and gets them a better living arrangement - but it’s still new for her and still means so much.

“Love you,” she breathes, shifting her body so she can kiss him.

“Love you,” he repeats, and there is nothing warmer in the world.


	6. no me without you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "a scared kiss".
> 
> Post-2x16.

The spinny-hug thing has got to be getting annoying, but she does it anyways when she sees him in the distance because screw everything, they’re both alive and she has feelings about that.

Octavia is tired as hell, aching, probably bleeding _somewhere_ , and very thankful for the rush of adrenaline that kicks in a couple of yards before she flings herself at her boyfriend. She knows he’s probably feeling the same, but she jumps up anyways and presses little kisses all over his face before finally reaching his lips and lingering. She will never get tired of this, she thinks, never get tired of the warmth and sweetness of him. Sure, the timing sucks, but-

“I was worried about you,” Lincoln breathes, because of course he was.

“I’m okay,” she replies, feathering a line of kisses up his jaw because she needs this beyond words. “You?”

“I’ll be okay,” he repeats, gently setting her down and pulling her close. “Nothing...?”

“I saw things. Bad. Not sure I’ll ever forget.”

“It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, kissing the top of her head. “We survived, Tae.”

“What if I didn’t want to?”

“What do you mean?”

“I was worried... look, you keep trying to die on me and there was so much shit going on and... if you die, I die. There’s no life for me without you.”

“Shhh. I’m here. It’s okay.”

“Next time, I stay with you. I don’t care who tries to stop us.”

“I like that plan.”

She stands back on tiptoes and kisses him long and hard as the weight of everything slips from her shoulders. They survived. They’re gonna be okay.


	7. first dance, start of forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "slow-dancing".
> 
> Modern-AU wedding fluff!!

In the grand scheme of the universe, today has gone well. Nothing’s caught fire _yet_ , two very different social circles have behaved themselves, and Octavia is pretty sure that this whole “wedding” thing isn’t as bad an idea as she previously thought.

She wanted to elope, okay? She had a _plan,_ but Lincoln wanted to do things properly and therefore she’s been stuck in an uncomfortable white dress and she just wants it to be over with. Another few hours, at least, and then she’s getting the hell out of this thing and-

“Everything okay?” her darling asks, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

“Tired, overwhelmed, and pretty sure I’m not gonna want you to touch me when we get to the hotel tonight,” she counters. “Whatever delusions you have about wedding-night sex, kill ‘em right now because not happening.”

“I can live with that,” he murmurs, leaning down and kissing her cheek. “C’mon. Apparently it’s time for our first dance.”

“How dead am I if I finally kick off these heels?”

“You’re still wearing them?” he laughs. “Fine by me.”

“Good. Hold still.” She turns around in his arms, using his shoulder for balance as she kicks off the offending shoes. “There. Now I can do one last cliché bride thing.”

“Not the last one, I don’t think. Bouquet toss?”

“Damn. At least that’s an excuse to hit your weird cousin’s girlfriend with a floral arrangement. This, on the other hand...”

“It’ll be okay, Tae. Just cling to me. You can do that.”

She damn well hopes so, she thinks, clutching his hand for dear life as they walk out onto the dancefloor. Somewhere in the vicinity of two hundred people are watching them, and she feels every single pair of eyes staring into her soul. If she were a slightly different sort of woman, she’d give ‘em something worth watching. As it is...

“Breathe, okay? Breathe and let me in.”

It isn’t much of a first dance, really. Just slowly swaying to music she barely hears, the rest of the world a total blur as she loses herself in Lincoln’s everything. She gets this now. She gets to wake up next to him every morning for the rest of their hopefully long lives. She’s going to have children with this man, walk through fire with him, evolve and grow with him. She’s not deserving, and yet-

“Are you crying?” he murmurs, pulling her even closer.

“I love you so much, babe. So much.”

He kisses her, a kiss _meant_  to be seen, and she smiles against his lips because all the good things are mutual.

“So much,” she murmurs against his skin. “So damn much.”


	8. heatwave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "the AC is out".
> 
> Modern AU, here there be smut and sensation play.

It has been one hour and seventeen minutes since the AC broke, and apparently the repair person can’t come until tomorrow. It’s the worst part of summer for this to happen too, with both the outside temperature and the humidity in the high nineties, and Octavia is _miserable_. Like, seriously considering just wandering around the apartment naked kind of miserable.

Screw it, she decides, slipping out of her shorts and underwear and putting them in a pile with her shirt and bra. It’s just her and her fiancé here, and she doubts he’s gonna mind the view.

Sure enough, when she wanders back out into the living room, Lincoln does a double take. “Occasion?” he asks, eyes wide like he’s not sure what she’s about to attempt.

“Trying not to get heatstroke,” she laughs. “Pretty sure I will at the rate we’re going.”

“So not about to proposition me or anything.” He sounds disappointed, almost.

“Thinking about it, but not about to do anything,” she murmurs, eyes wandering over his body. He’s in shorts and nothing else, allowing her eyes to linger on his muscles and the faint outline of his dick. “Problem?”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

She sits down next to him for a while, tries to cuddle because being overheated is slightly less awful all curled up with her darling, but she just can’t get comfortable.

“We need to go out and buy a cheap fan or two like normal people,” she murmurs, even though the idea of getting dressed again is unappealing.

“Better idea,” he counters, standing up and wandering off for a few moments. When he returns, he has a tray of ice cubes in hand. “You’re already naked, Tae, so I figure...”

“Ooooh, yes.” She likes this game. Sensation play is a _thing_  for her, and having a viable excuse for it is even better. “Floor?”

“Floor.”

She lies down on her back in the center of the space, feeling her body rush with arousal as he kneels beside her. They have a whole dozen ice cubes to play with, and she fully expects all of them will end up on her body and she is so so into this idea.

He puts the first one in his mouth for a few moments, sucking on it before leaning down and transferring it to her through a kiss. It’s so _cold_  and she likes the feel of it melting in her mouth, even more so as one of his hands drops down and cups her already aching core. He’s obviously enjoying himself already, and she loves the attention.

“Roll over,” he murmurs, and she complies.

The second ice cube starts on the small of her back, but he moves it downward and circles it around her ass as it melts. The sensation feels _good_ , and she whimpers even though he hasn’t reached any of her pleasure spots yet. Again he lightly teases her core at the end, and oh she is looking forward to revenge when this is over.

He moves her back onto her back and leaves the third ice cube to melt in the valley between her breasts as he applies the fourth to her clit. He doesn’t mess around this time, rubs her all the right ways and that plus the sensation causes orgasm number one and she’s pretty sure she sees stars as she screams his name.

“Can I put one inside you?” Lincoln asks when she comes down enough to be talkative again.

“If it’ll go,” she shrugs, and she is utterly unsurprised when ice cube number five slips into her pussy without any real difficulty. It’s a different feeling than anything she’s used to having inside her, but it feels _good_  and she clenches around it all the same as his fingers bat at her clit. By the time this one melts, she’s close but not quite on the edge and she growls as he takes his hand off her.

“Finish me?” she begs.

Ice cube number six melts in his mouth as he eats her out, lapping at her juices and sucking on her pearl as she crosses. It’s different, like all of this is, but so so good and oh she loves him.

“This is gonna be a weird stain to get out of the carpet,” she murmurs when she comes down again.

“We can stop if you want.”

“Don’t wanna stop yet. I’ll tell you, okay?”

Ice cubes seven and eight are used at once, one on each of her breasts. He alternates with his mouth, sucking on a nipple until she screams and then switching to the other one, over and over as two fingers enter her and press just so on her g-spot. The man is _attentive_ , bless him, and Octavia feels like the luckiest woman alive as her third orgasm takes her.

“Your turn,” she decides, pushing him down. She can see how hard he is, and she wants to have a little fun undoing him.

Ice cube number nine goes in her mouth as she licks him, running her tongue up and down his length and occasionally pressing little kisses to the head. After a few repeats, she sticks ice cube number ten in her core, and her movements above him get a little less controlled but so much better.  It’s fun to edge him, fun to cover all his sensitive bits with cold wet kisses and get him so close and then back away and watch him come down a little before she continues.

After that set melts, she straddles his hips and kisses him long and sweet and wanting. “I need you in me,” she breathes against his lips, and the final phase of a plan is born.

Ice cubes eleven and twelve melt on his stomach as she rides him. She’s already sensitive, and he’s close from the moment he enters her, and neither of them last vey long before it’s all too much and things get hazy.

“You’re amazing,” she murmurs, resting her head on his chest as they come down.

“Did that help?”

“Probably not, but it felt good. You feel good.”

He kisses her gently. “I just wanna take care of you, Tae. You know that.”

“And you’re good at that, love. So good.”

They end up taking a catnap together, naked on the bad carpet, and it might be the best Sunday afternoon of her life.


	9. ours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - “I did a pregnancy test.”
> 
> Modern AU.

She hasn’t been feeling well for days, and he can’t help but worry. Octavia getting sick is... well, it’s not a completely new experience, but it’s still a frightening one. Especially like this, when she’s all emotional and uncommunicative and generally opposite to her normal self and he feels like he can’t reach her and-

“I need to tell you something,” she murmurs, curling up on the couch beside him.

The last time one of their convos started out like that, he learned that she was having second thoughts about getting married. Lincoln isn’t sure anything could outright top that, but the woman he loves is full of surprises and-

“I did a pregnancy test,” she murmurs, nuzzling her face against his shoulder. “Two, actually. Both positive.”

In a heartbeat, his entire world crashes around him.

He wants kids, in theory. Likes the idea enough that he hasn’t actively said anything against it and didn’t worry too much when Octavia stopped taking her pill a few months ago because the side effects were getting too bad again. But somehow, in the back of his mind, he thought they’d have _time_. Apparently not. Apparently this is happening.

“Are you okay with that?” he asks, because screw _him_ , he’s not the one who gets to have a cute little parasite in their body for nine months.

“I want this,” she replies. “I think I’ve wanted it fro the moment I met you, really I know that’s such a weird thing to say, but... you’re the sort of person who makes domesticity look really appealing.”

“This is not about me,” he murmurs.

“Except that it is, because you have to live with this too. If we’re doing this - and I _want_  to do it, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life since the moment I heard your voice - I want you to be completely in.”

He ought to be rational about this, he thinks. Ought to take a few moments and breathe and process the situation. Instead, he kisses his forehead and puts one of his hands on her still-flat stomach.

“If you’re in, I’m in.”

“That’s not a yes.”

“I love you, Tae. I love you more than anything. I’m not happy with the timing here, but we can make it work. If it’s what you want, then it’s what I want.”

“Lee-”

“Yes. My answer is yes.”

She shifts closer and kisses him, lingering and tasting him and feeling the weight of it all. “I love you,” she breathes against his jaw. “You’re so good to me.”

“It’s going to be beautiful,” he murmurs, holding her close. “Your eyes, hopefully.”

“And your skin.”

“And your jaw.”

“And your mouth.”

“Too cute to live, probably.”

“And _ours_. That’s the important part.”

It is indeed.


	10. get this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "the way you said “i love you”... on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair".
> 
> Usual canon-divergent 'verse.

It’s peaceful now.

He’s not sure he’s ever been able to say those words and mean them before, but at least for a little while, the world is quiet and the only thing Lincoln has to worry about is the woman currently lying next to him on the grass. If he’s learned anything over the last two years, it’s that Octavia can get into trouble in just about any situation, and while she’s matured a lot from the reckless girl he first fell in love with, she’s still _her_  and she’s still uniquely talented.

Ah well. At least she can’t do much more than petty catfights and minor battles with the local four-legged wildlife lately. He supposes he can live with that.

Right now, though, right now they’re lying on their backs in open air and it feels utterly fearless. The only weapon either of them thought to bring on this little outing was a small knife in her jacket pocket in case of unexpected wildlife, and said jacket is currently out of reach. They’re not in danger anymore, and maybe they never will be again. The odds are good enough to create hope, and in turn create a life.

“I don’t think I ever realized how beautiful everything is,” she murmurs, rolling onto her side to face him. “Never got the chance.”

“Me neither,” he replies, entwining their hands. It’s only half true; he’s seen a lot of beauty since she decided to turn his life upside-down and save him from himself, but he knows that now is no time for such compliments.

“I get this,” she continues, sounding distinctly proud of herself. “I get to _live_. I get to sneak off with my husband and-”

“People know where we are, Tae. Or at least a general idea. We’re predictable.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, fine, we _are_  predictable, but that’s the beautiful thing. After all the bullshit that’s happened, we’re still here. We’re still alive and together and-”

She moves closer and kisses him, soft sweet warm good, hands resting on his hips but none of her pushing harder. He wraps his arms around her waist and lets the moment happen, holds her close even after they break apart, lingers. Damn right they get all of this.

“I love you,” she says, laughing as she kisses the tip of his nose. She has never been hesitant about those three little words, but every time seems to carry different meaning. This time, it’s an appreciation of everything they are both individually and together, and his body lights up as she repeats it over and over like she always does.

“Love you too. Always.”


	11. home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "the way you said “i love you”… with no space left between us".
> 
> Usual canon-divergent 'verse.

“This is ours,” Octavia breathes, twirling around in the center of the space. It’s not much, she knows, but it’s an actual _home_ , multiple rooms all their own and so much more than she ever hoped for and-

“Do you like it?” Lincoln murmurs, wrapping his arms around her from behind and holding her relatively still against him.

“Like it?” she repeats, almost laughing. “This is... why didn’t you tell me? It’s a beautiful surprise but-”

“I wanted to make sure it happened first, Tae. Wasn’t totally sure it would.”

She’s heard horror stories about red tape - dealt with it enough herself lately, training in medical - and she can only imagine what her darling might’ve had to go through. “I love you,” she murmurs, twirling around in his arms and kissing him lightly. “You fight for us, so much more than I do and-”

“Not true, love.”

It really isn’t - just two weeks ago she got in a fight with some asshole who had a little problem with her choice of mate, even though it’s been a solid year now - but their methods are different. He uses his head and his heart and his words; she, more often, uses fists and venom. She has no delusions about being a good person here, and yet-

“Why’d we get so much space?” she asks, even though she’s pretty sure she knows the answer.

“I haven’t quite followed all the changes of rules and freedoms, but... I know I’m new blood here and I know things are expected of us. Not _immediately_ , but eventually this place will be full of new life.” He kisses her forehead, soft and gentle as always. “If you want that, Tae.”

“You’re asking me if I want to have kids with you?”

Lincoln glances away for a moment, hesitant. “Yeah?”

She kisses him again, harder this time, wanting. “You are such a romantic...”


	12. sunday morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "morning sex".
> 
> Indefinite modern AU; NSFW content.

There are worse ways to wake up than with his fiancé straddling him, Lincoln thinks as the situation unfolds. Way, way worse ways.

His eyes aren’t even open yet, but he knows the weight of her and knows exactly how to lean up just a little and capture her lips with his own. He can taste the determination on her, the “neither of us has to leave the house until this evening” Sunday-morning sweetness, and he savors as much of it as he can. Octavia is nothing if not heart-driven, and if this is what she wants then he is more than willing.

(Ah well, at least she’s figured out that sucking him off when he’s not totally lucid is a bad life choice. Thank goodness. That was a strange few mornings, and he didn’t exactly _mind_  but on the other hand far warning is lovely and... yeah.)

“What do you want?” he murmurs, opening his eyes as she rolls her hips against his and gasps. There’s not a lot of fabric between them; he’s in shorts and she’s in an oversized t-shirt that may or may not have been his at some point and that’s _it_  and it would be so easy to-

“Right now?” she laughs against his jaw. “Right now I want to ride you, and then I want to sleep a little more, and then I’m thinking you make coffee and I make something that won’t set off the fire alarm again and-”

“We can figure the rest out later,” he decides, slipping his hand between them and up her makeshift dress towards her core. She’s already wet and unusually vocal for this time of day, moaning as he drags a finger through her slit and up to her swollen pearl. He knows what patterns she likes best, how to make her whimper and hiss his name, and it’s a beautiful sight watching her almost fall apart above him. Almost, almost - he’s a good tease, and he’s had a solid two years to learn her body, and he’s not letting her fall just yet.

“I love you,” she murmurs, getting her revenge by stroking his hardening cock through his shorts. He growls and she smiles brightly, pleased with herself as always. It’s a good look on her.

“Get off me for a moment?”

She does one better, rising onto her knees and helping him push his shorts down past his hips. It’s a shameless excuse to touch him more, and she licks her lips as her thumb makes tantalizing circles around the head. “Ready?”

“Please.”

She lines herself up and sinks down, leaning forward and kissing him to muffle their sounds. She’s just as much of a tease as he is, and she moves slowly and tantalizingly as they both get closer and closer.

“You’re amazing, Tae,” he murmurs, pretty sure he’s never meant anything more in his life.

“Touch me?”

He obliges, more purposeful this time, and she crosses with a delightful scream and one of her hands pinching his nipple. He follows soon after, holding her close as it happens and accidentally biting a little too hard on her shoulder. Half-sleepy morning sex is the _best_.

“Gonna sleep again,” Octavia decides, rolling off of him and claiming her usual nest on the far side of their bed. “Wake me up when you’re up? Normal wakeup, not like-”

“Will do,” Lincoln replies, leaning over and kissing her cheek before retreating to his side of the bed. “Love you.”

Ah yes, way worse things could happen than this...


	13. separate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "a stolen kiss".
> 
> Usual canon-divergence and oh hey nothing like the prompt at all.

Octavia has never been one for following rules. Perhaps that’s a given, but for the most part the girl just does what she wants and hopes all of it works. And when what she wants is attention, and her dearest darlingest managed to get the worst guard shift _ever_  because he’s not so good at saying no to people... _well_.

Technically, it’s not the first time she’s tagged along. She and Lincoln function as one unit in two bodies, together whenever circumstances allow, and yes she’s well aware that it’s kinda codependent but it’s a very mutual problem. At least once every other week or so, she’ll tag along on an overnight shift and they’ll find somewhere nice and deserted to fuck and it works out well for them. Lincoln always seems to get the outer-limits patrols, the most interesting thing he’s ever done on one of those was shoot what he _swears_  was a squirrel (Octavia has her doubts on that detail), and it’s a good arrangement as much as the details allow.

Except that this week, because the universe apparently hates the both of them, he’s got an indoor-rabbit-warren patrol. Fuck that.

“You don’t have to come,” he reminds her as he gets ready to leave for the night. “I’ll be back before you wake up, Tae. You know that.”

“What if I can’t sleep?” she counters, fluttering her eyelashes.

“You’ve seen what my route looks like. Highest possible concentration of security cameras. I don’t think we need a repeat of last time.”

“Last time was _fun_.”

“Last time was a disaster, love.” He kisses her forehead, gentle as always. “You’re not coming.”

“Fine,” she mutters, rolling her eyes before standing on tiptoe and pulling him in for a long kiss. “Wake me up like that?”

“Will do...”


	14. invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "Octavia is interested in Bellamy's new roommate and he's not too happy about it."

It’s not that Octavia hates her roommate her freshman year. Seriously, she doesn’t. Maya is a sweetheart, really, but personalities just don’t mesh well for actually living together. Friends, definitely, but putting up with each other constantly? Not so much. But on the flip side, they get on _enough_ , and Octavia’s determined to tough it out for the whole school year. She just... doesn’t intend to spend a lot of nights in their room.

Seriously. Like... what is the point of three-years-older brother with off-campus apartment if Octavia can’t invade and sleep on his couch more often than not? She knows Bell won’t mind, he’s probably never going to be at the apartment anyways unless he actually gets kicked out of wherever he works on stuff, and besides he gave her a spare key and told her to come ‘round if she needed anything. Welp, it’s two weeks into the semester and Octavia definitely needs something, so what the hell.

Unfortunately, what Bellamy did _not_  tell her - or maybe he did and she just didn’t hear him because Too Much Else Going On - is that he has a roommate. A very attractive roommate who apparently didn’t exactly know about little sister with key and is currently looking at her like he’s two seconds from calling 911.

“I can explain,” Octavia says, making conscious eye contact with the pretty person. He looks unamused, and she really can’t blame him for that but-

“You don’t need to,” he replies, softening. “I know who you are. I’m not sure why you’re here at nine PM on a Wednesday, but-”

“Roommate trouble. I’m crashing on the couch here. Probably for the rest of the year assuming I’m not cockblocking you with my very presence.”

Pretty person - he needs a name, dammit - shrugs. “You’re not. Your brother, on the other hand...”

“Honestly, I do not care. It’s my duty as cute little sister to make sure Bell’s love life stays nonexistent. And since his type is generally ‘hot but crazy’, I think I’m doing the world a huge favor.”

“You have a point,” pretty roommate laughs. “And it might be nice to have someone around here who actually talks.”

“I take up like no space, I promise. Just find a blanket for me and I’ll stay completely out of your way.”

Twenty minutes later, Octavia has a blanket. And a cup of tea spiked with just a little bit of some sort of alcohol that tastes _lovely_  and who is she to question such wonders. And a warm body next to her making hissing noises as he attempts to read something on his laptop. Instead of avoiding her, as she’d expected, Lincoln has decided to join her and make friends and she’s all kinds of confused but it’s a good excuse to stare at him so she’ll take it.

She wants to touch his face. That’s _it_ , she swears. He’s angular but less so than she is and in a way she wants under her fingers. And all over her body, honestly. She’s halfway starting to wonder what his scruff would feel like between her thighs when she hears the door slam open and-

“What. The. Hell.”

Benefit number four of growing up like she did - Octavia knows when to damage-control before there’s any actual damage _to_  control. “You gave me a key, asshole. Forgive me for actually using it.”

“There are things I don’t need to see and this is like five of them,” Bellamy mutters, shaking his head.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Lincoln attempts to explain. Such pretty last words.

“Let’s see, it’s my roommate and close friend basically wrapped around my eighteen-year-old sister and-”

“We’re not even touching,” Octavia points out. “And even if we were, this is an improvement over that time you-”

“I can’t fucking believe this.”

“How many ways do I have to say that nothing’s going on?? My roommate is driving me crazy so I decided to come here and hide for the night, and _your_  roommate has been a perfect gentleman and-”

“Please,” Bellamy mutters, this time with a dramatic eyeroll.

There are a few ways out of this situation, at least from Octavia’s angle. Option one, she retreats back where she ‘belongs’ and avoids this clusterfuck entirely. Option two, she reminds her darling brother that she can yell longer than he can and pisses off everyone else in their complex in the process. Or option three, she confirms every existent suspicion and creates a few new ones with one little maneuver.

Option three is the most fun, so option three it is.

Octavia shifts her position a little, leans in, and kisses Lincoln full on the mouth. He tastes like mint chapstick and the strange tea-and-liquor concoction he made for them earlier, and it’s only supposed to be a quick brush of skin but then his hands are in her hair and there are teeth and tongues and she’s pretty sure he actually _growls_  into her mouth and oh this is everything.

She’s not sure how long the kiss lasts. She _is_  sure that when they break apart, Bellamy is still on the other side of the room, very red, and looks like he’s about to pass out.

“Thanks for the idea, big brother,” Octavia smirks. “Karma’s a bitch, huh?”

She has never seen Bellamy run so fast, and it’s fricking beautiful.

Once another door slams and they’re alone again, Octavia turns towards Lincoln, inching just a little closer. “I’m sorry about that. I’m kinda impulsive, and it seemed like a good idea at the time and-”

“It _was_  a good idea,” he replies, gently kissing her. It’s slow and sweet this time, and her heart melts as his fingers do that thing in her hair again.

“I’m not gonna fuck you here.”

“Wasn’t thinking like that. I don’t know you enough yet.”

“You’re one of the good ones,” she murmurs, unsurprised by it all.

“Would you like to go out sometime? Dinner somewhere, maybe?”

“Yeah. I’d love that.”

“Good.”


	15. rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "let's get you to bed".
> 
> Usual canon-divergence.

She doesn’t actually remember when she last slept, which is probably the first sign that things are about to completely fall apart.

It’s safer that way, okay? Octavia’s brain hasn’t been a safe place in a damn long time, and while her life has been made so much better by her love, having a boyfriend with incredibly bad luck and just enough sacrificial instincts to be a problem has... not exactly helped her subconscious. They’ve had a little less than a year together and she’s mostly accepted the odds that she will be widowed _very young_ , but that doesn’t mean she’s okay with it. Nor is she okay with all the things she’s seen, bad memories that like to repeat whenever she tries to close her eyes.

The nightmares where she herself dies have mostly stopped; the nightmares where her partner dies just keep multiplying, the details all too vivid, and the only way to avoid them is to not sleep in the first place. Which is working out _great_  for her right now.

She’s pretty sure she’s been awake for three days, discovering new levels of human endurance, when he notices. Correction - when he notices enough to say something to her about it. There’s no doubt in her mind that Lincoln has figured out her latest mildly self-destructive coping mech, but he’s a blessedly hands-off kind of worrier. Unless she’s asking for help or bleeding, he lets her be and she loves him even more for it. But apparently there are a few more limits than she thought, and-

“Are you alright, my star?” he says in that way he does when he sees right through her and just wants confirmation.

“Yeah,” she replies all too quickly. “Fine.”

He doesn’t say anything, just looks at her like he knows better. They’re both talented at non-verbal communication, and this particular routine is one of their best and most instinctive. He reaches for her hand even though he’d rather hold her, keeps distance, waits for her to make her move.

“You know I don’t sleep anymore, right?”

He nods and some of the worry within him becomes visible. “How long this time?”

“Don’t even know. Three days? I haven’t collapsed yet so I’m _fine_.”

“You are not fine.” He leans in for a moment, kissing her forehead before returning to his previous position. “You look dead on your feet, Tae. You need to-”

“I close my eyes and I see you die. Repeatedly. Vividly. And not just the ways you’ve tried to either. I can’t handle that.”

“But what you’re doing is-”

“Bad, I know, but a best-case scenario here. You trust me, right?”

“I do, but I want you to be okay. You’re no good to yourself like this.”

She knows he’s right, and she’s in no mood to pick a fight about it. “Fine, but you’re staying with me. When it happens... I need to see you when I snap awake. I need to remind myself that you’re okay and you’re here and you love me.”

“I can do that,” he murmurs, squeezing her head. “C’mon. Let’s get you to bed.”

They’re quiet as they retreat towards home, quiet as jackets and boots are shed and they make an acceptable nest of their blankets, quiet as she curls into a ball and he wraps around her protective as always. Normally he’d kiss her now, delicate, and she’d kiss fierce and they would ignite. Not today, though. This is not a time for affection, it’s a time for healing.

“I’m here,” Lincoln breathes, holding her close. “You can close your eyes. It’s okay. I’m here and I’m okay.”

“Love you,” she murmurs, and then she crashes.

Octavia is out cold for a very long time. She’s not sure _how_  long, but her sleep is completely blank and satisfying and for the first time in a long time, she doesn’t have a nightmare. She doesn’t see anything at all until right before she wakes up, and even then it’s only a single glowing butterfly. There are no demons, no monsters, and no pain.

When her eyes flutter open, her boyfriend is still curled around her. He’s been awake for a little while, she can tell, and he smiles like the sun as she turns to face him. “Everything okay now?”

“I don’t know what just happened, but yeah. Thank you.”

They stay there for a while, just holding each other, and she wonders if maybe this is yet another new beginning. (She hopes it is.)


	16. explorations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "are you ticklish?"
> 
> Usual canon-divergent 'verse, PG-ish.

They’re lying in bed when Octavia figures it out, lazy winter morning with nothing to do. She’s recovering from an overnight guard shift, half asleep as she burrows herself against her partner. She has no idea how lucid he is, and she’ll be responsive enough if he kisses her and tries to start something but she’s in no active mood herself. No, right now what she wants is to cuddle for a bit and fall asleep feeling safe and inevitably wake up alone and-

Her wandering hand finds a spot right above Lincoln’s waist and accidentally puts a little pressure on it, and all of a sudden he makes a very strange sound.

“Did I hurt you?” she asks. She’s got sharp enough fingernails and his pain tolerance is weird, not to mention his habit of ignoring any injury that isn’t life-threatening, but-

“No,” he murmurs, pressing a reassuring kiss to her forehead.

Curious, Octavia runs her fingers over the spot again and this time her partner’s noise sounds a little more like a laugh.

“Are you ticklish?” she asks, figuring that’s a good option two.

“In places.”

“You do realize that’s a challenge for me, babe.”

“Some other time?”

She rolls her eyes and leans up to kiss the tip of his nose. “Sure. It’ll be fun.”

“As if you needed an excuse to explore me.”

“Point taken, but...”

His arms slip around her, pulling her closer. “Sleep now, Tae. Talk later. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Oh, she’s gonna have so much fun with this...


	17. invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: 21: Volunteers to investigate the strange noises coming from the closet. + 22: Begrudgingly adopts the cat that climbed in through the open window and hid in said closet.
> 
> Modern AU, PG-ish.

“Are we sure all the utilities work here?” Octavia asks her partner on a tired Thursday night, wandering into their living room after she changes out of her work clothes.

Lincoln gives her a sideways glance. “Do I wanna know, babe?”

“Something in our closet is making weird noises,” she hisses. “Like, very not normal noises.”

“And have you opened the closet and checked it out?”

“ _No._ ”

Lincoln gets to his feet and walks over to where his girlfriend’s standing. “You’re absolutely sure it’s in our bedroom closet?”

“I’m not having hallucinations again. You know damn well those don’t involve locations anyways.”

“Wasn’t saying as much. Just wondering if it might be the downstairs neighbors again.”

“Nope. It is _definitely_  in our closet.”

“Okay then.”

Together, they walk into the bedroom. It’s at this point Lincoln notices that Octavia is clutching the baseball bat she keeps under their bed ‘for emergencies’ - never a good sign.

“It’s probably nothing major, babe. We’re gonna be okay.”

From a couple feet away, he can hear the noises too. Definitely a living thing of the non-human species. For a couple heartbeats, every bad alien-invasion movie he’s ever seen flashes through his brain, and then-

“Whatever the hell is in there, if it scares you...”

“Hit it until it stops moving,” Octavia finishes. “Unless it’s human, in which case just go for the crotch until it stops moving.”

(Some days Lincoln wonders if he ever wants to know the details of his future brother-in-law’s infamous “self-defense techniques” speech.)

Slowly, Lincoln opens the closet door. Nothing charges out, and the noises get a little quieter, and then-

“Tae, is that a jacket on the floor or-”

“Awwww!”

In a heartbeat, Octavia transforms from terrified to awestruck. She slowly reaches into the depths of the closet and pulls out the source of the noises - a tiny, terrified kitten.

Lincoln rolls his eyes. “Seriously?”

The kitten makes another sharp hissing sound as Octavia cradles it in her arms. A moment later, she yelps as it sinks its back claws into her skin.

“We’re keeping it,” she decides.

“How did it even get here?”

“No idea, but this little baby’s caused a lot of trouble...”

“The animal shelter is-”

“You like cats. I like cats. This cutie needs a good home. I’m not seeing the problem.”

“Fine, but we’re not adopting the next thing that invades our apartment. Can you live with that?”

“As long as you’re okay with a cat-baby...”


	18. something to see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: the way you said "I love you"... loud, for everyone to hear
> 
> Canon-divergent and PG-ish

He was supposed to be gone two days, but it’s been a week and Octavia is getting worried. She knows it’s probably nothing, probably just some diplomatic hangup that nobody thought to plan around, but no good thing has ever come of her partner’s absences and what if something’s gone _wrong_  and-

In the distance, she sees a him-shaped figure and her heart jumps. She’s spent every spare moment these last few days waiting for him on the edges, and all her fear melts away as she watches his approach. He’s moving normally enough, perhaps a little slower but in a way that suggests tiredness instead of injury, and she still wants an explanation but she knows that will come in time. She’s not scared anymore. Just...

They meet halfway as always. Normally Octavia would run the last couple of yards, but there’s something in Lincoln’s face - even at this distance - that makes her know better. He’s in no mood for her spinning jump thing, no matter _how_  happy it makes her, and she can respect that.

“Where the hell were you?” she asks when they’re close enough to touch.

“Negotiations got complicated,” he murmurs, pulling her into a comforting embrace. It’s clearly all he wants to say on the matter, or at least all he’ll say with fifty-odd people around.

“Try not to let that happen again, okay?”

“Why?” Concerned now; she can’t see his face but she can still envision the way his eyes get deep when he’s worried, and he tightens his arms around her just a little and-

“Because I love you!”

The words come out far louder than Octavia expects, and it takes her a tragically long time to realize that other people are staring. Whatever. Not like anybody here doesn’t already know.

“I love you too,” Lincoln replies softly, lips a tempting inch from her ear.

She leans up and pulls him down for a passionate kiss. What the hell. If people are watching, Octavia figures, they might as well have something to see.


	19. content

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "shh, you're safe now".

They both have vivid nightmares now.

Octavia didn’t get a lot of time to learn Lincoln’s sleeping patterns before all hell broke loose on like three separate occasions in a row, but she’s pretty sure this shit is new for him. She’s pretty sure that _before_  - before her, before being temporarily turned into something inhuman, before ending up stuck in a metal box ‘cause it’s the safest place for his pure heart right now - he slept quietly and peacefully. Sometimes, Octavia can’t help but blame herself for how haunted her half-heart has become. Before her...

Ah well, she thinks as she rolls over and jabs a sharp fingernail into Lincoln’s shoulder. She can have this guilt attack _later_ , once he stops howling.

“Wake _up_ ,” she hisses, adding another fingernail. Thank goodness he sleeps shirtless and wakes up easy, she thinks as he bolts upright and she recoils instinctively. A month into domesticity, at least they’ve got a routine for these nights.

“Bad,” he murmurs. His eyes are still closed, probably will be a few more heartbeats yet. “Flashbacks. Bad.”

Octavia shifts closer and wraps her body around his, clings to his chest because innocent touch heals both of them in ways beyond words. “Shhh. You’re safe now.”

“Safe,” Lincoln repeats. He’s a quiet man to begin with, Octavia’s pretty sure, but even more so when his mind is in a bad place. The fact that he’s talking at _all_  is a good thing.

“You’ve got me,” she reminds him. “You’ve got me, we have weapons under our bed, and all the monsters are gone now. Nothing can hurt us here, love.”

Octavia is half the size of her partner and learned almost everything she knows about fighting from practical experience, but that doesn’t matter. If anybody ever tries to hurt Lincoln again - and she knows it’s just a matter of time, the world doesn’t tend to like good people like him - they’ll have to go through her first.

But that can wait until morning, she thinks as they settle into a comfortable position and both attempt to sleep again. Right now, she’s got a few more hours before she has to be human again, and she’s perfectly content to spend them right where she is.


	20. before the dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shamelessly AU (certain parts of s3 didn't happen) smut.

Octavia is getting real sick of getting separated from her boyfriend and not knowing what the hell is happening to him while they’re apart, but she has to admit that there are a few perks to their pattern.

Which is to say, there is _nothing_  like making love while still high on the feeling of “oh hey, _not_  dead”.

It’s still kinda bullshit, Octavia knows. Lincoln is a gentle and attentive lover regardless of circumstances, and he doesn’t seem as altered by the circumstances as she does. Not when clothes are off, anyways.  He’ll be more affectionate in public for a few days, she expects, but no different when they’re alone.

She, on the other hand... she’s clingy and territorial and mostly just wants his cock in her right now but goddamn does her man like buildup a little too much for her tastes.

She’s on her back on an improvised bed, naked apart from this corset-style top she’s not even sure how to remove, and his head’s rested on her stomach and he’s not even _doing_  anything beyond making her squirm. Neither mouth nor fingers is anywhere near where she wants them, and she’s so tempted to hiss about it and-

“Patience,” Lincoln murmurs. His voice is low, almost a growl, and that plus the feeling of his scruff on her skn sends another jolt of want straight to her core.

“Please,” she counters, rolling her eyes even though she doubts he can even see. “Not like you like this either.”

As playful retaliation, he drags one long finger through her slit, bringing some of her wetness upward and rubbing her clit a few times, and it’s all she can do to keep from screaming.

“It’ll be weeks before we get this kind of time again, Tae.”

She knows, like it or not, that her boyfriend has a point. Once the dust settles and they discover what new calamity is on the horizon, she will be lucky to get time for half-asleep fucks in their bed and maybe sneaking out to go pester him when he’s on overnight guard shift and continuing their pattern of semi-public handjobs. She ought to enjoy this teasing while she can, because once they leave this space-

Octavia’s thoughts cut off abruptly as that same finger slips inside her, exploring until it finds her inner nerve bundle.

“That is not what I want inside me,” she hisses, half playful, and then Lincoln’s strokes turn much more intentional and _oh_.

By the time she’s breathing normally again, he’s hovering over her and waiting for a sign. She gives it happily, wrapping her hand around his length and stroking a few times before guiding him towards her entrance. “Fuck me.”

There are many beautiful things about this love, Octavia thinks as Lincoln begins to slowly thrust, but the sex is definitely high on the list. Not that she’s got anything to compare it to, really, but she’s smart enough to know how lucky she is. Smart enough to know that she’s been blessed with a good man, attentive, playfully pressing wet kisses all over her face until she laughs and her pussy clenches around him just so. Oh, she loves him.

She says so, shameless and content as ever, and watches his beautiful face light up.

“Love you too, my star.”

Soon enough, just before she approaches another edge, he finishes within her. He lingers for a few moments before rolling off, shifting to lie beside her, and moves her body so her head rests over his heart.

“Missed you,” Lincoln murmurs.

“They’re idiots. You know that, right? They _know_  we fight better together, and yet-”

“Maybe I like it when you rescue me,” he laughs.

“This time was not rescuing, babe.”

“Close enough.”

“Whatever.”

Octavia closes her eyes and lets herself drift off to sleep. She’s exhausted, she’s probably bleeding somewhere she hasn’t found yet, and yet she is safe with her love and all is well. Before the dust, all is well.


	21. just a cut

In fairness, it’s just a small injury. Barely anything, a small puncture of skin while shaving that Lincoln normally wouldn’t even notice and almost _doesn’t_  except... Octavia does, and Octavia is not a morning person, and Octavia is a little dramatic when she’s not fully awake, and...

“You okay?” she asks, all breathless like she doesn’t get for any other reason, and honestly sometimes she’s lucky she’s cute because otherwise this would be on the edge of a line and-

“It’s just a cut. Really. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” she points out, like he can’t already see that in the mirror or feel a few droplets of blood blossom on his skin.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s _bleeding_.”

He puts the razor down on the counter and turns to face his partner. “I like that you worry about me, Tae, but sometimes...”

“Sometimes I go too far,” she finishes. (They’ve had this convo before, several times in the last week alone, and Lincoln is hopeful that maybe another year or so of this routine might actually get results. Maybe.)

“Yup. Sometimes a cut is just a cut.”

“Sorry. I just...”

“I know.”

She flings herself at him, nestles her body against his just right, and leans her head up to kiss the curve of his neck. “Maybe I just love you too much.”

“Not possible.”

“Completely possible.”

“Nah.”

“Yep.”

“Let go?”

“Not yet?”

“Okay.”


	22. saturday morning blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU fluff with bonus background tiny human!

Octavia feels like _shit._

Like, there are not words in any language she’s ever heard of that would adequately describe how _awful_  she feels right now. The kind where she has been up all night, keeps throwing up, might have a migraine, and has resigned herself to laying in a blanket pile in the bathroom all weekend. _That_ kind of shit.

But right now, right now it is 7:30 AM according to her phone and Lily has dance class at 9 (and judging by current background noise, is already scurrying around the house) and it’s Lincoln’s turn to take her _anyways_ , but the problem with neither partner being a morning person is, well...

Octavia groans, uncurls from her current state of blanket-burrito, and clings to the counter as she gets to her feet.

Not only does she feel like shit, but she looks like it too. A brief glimpse in the mirror reveals her hair is in knots that may have to be cut out, the bags under her eyes are _bigger_  than her eyes, and she looks far too pale. Like a corpse. Or maybe an albino. Yeah, she is not leaving the house this weekend.

It takes way too long for her to get from the bathroom to the bedroom where her beloved husband is fast asleep. Some vague part of her feels bad for not waking him up at some point during the mystery-food-poisoning-or-maybe-flu-honestly-hell-if-she-knows extravaganza of the last nine or so hours, but not _that_  bad. Lincoln checked in on her before he went to bed and delivered the blanket pile, fulfilling basic human decency requirements and then some, and Octavia knows he would’ve woken up if there had been screaming or something equally strange. Which there wasn’t. So she is _completely_  fine with the fact that at least one adult human in the house got adequate sleep last night.

She slips into the bedroom and, of course, he’s still out. Time for a little improvisation. If things were a little different - if she wasn’t sick and there wasn’t a time issue - she could think of some very delightful ways to wake him up. As it is...

With every drop of energy she has left, Octavia throws herself onto the empty side of the bed and jabs a fingernail into the exposed skin of her husband’s shoulderblade. “Rise and shine, motherfucker,” she growls.

Lincoln rolls over to face her, blinking, not quite awake yet. “Tae? Everything okay?”

“We have a four-year-old daughter who needs to be at dance class in an hour and I still feel like shit, so... no?”

He processes the situation quickly, bless him. “Guess my alarm didn’t work.”

“Happens. It’s why you’ve got me, right?”

Lincoln presses a quick kiss to his wife’s forehead. “We could stay home. If you... if you want someone around...”

“I’ll be fine, babe. I just need to sleep. And dance class will tire Lily out, so you can take care of me later without her being... her.”

“Good plan. Sleep well. Love you.”

Octavia closes her eyes, stretches out on the bed, and crashes. Hard.

(And an hour later, when she’s awake again and the house is quiet, uses the emergency pregnancy test she keeps on hand for such strange situations. Just to be certain about whether she was up all night because of a bad hamburger or something much, much more complicated.)


	23. boundaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - “I’m alive… I can tell because of the pain.”
> 
> How this turned into modern-AU pre-relationship fluff, I have no idea but here we aaaare.

There are things Lincoln expects to see as he wanders into his living room bright and ugly on Sunday morning, and... then there is the person-shaped ball of blankets currently on his couch. What. The. Hell.

It does not help that there are about half a dozen people it could be either. This is totally what Lincoln gets for thinking that a certain casual friend would be a good apartment-mate for his senior year of college. What Lincoln admittedly did not know at the time, and did not fully realize until someone _blew up their goddamned toaster_  in mid-September, is that Bellamy attracts strays and tries to take care of them and that in turn means quite a variety of state-college human wildlife in the apartment at strange hours for strange reasons and it is now the week before Thanksgiving and Lincoln is not sure what he even signed up for here and- 

The blanket ball moves slightly and makes a vague moaning noise and okay, whomever they are, at least they’re alive. That should not be so reassuring.

Lincoln decides that the civilized thing to do for a random hungover person, considering that said person is one of Bellamy’s strays or maybe another weird ex-girlfriend and either way the _last_  thing that person needs while in this apartment is some hair of the dog, is to wander into the kitchen and make tea for them and hope there’s still some Advil in the cabinet. Least he can do considering that the person actually _responsible_  for this mess on legs has been MIA since Friday and can stay that way for all he cares.

By the time Lincoln wanders back out to the living room, mug of tea in one hand and bottle of painkillers in the other, the blanket ball has shed its cocoon and shifted to a sitting position and oh, great, this is even worse than expected.

Blanket ball, because something out there inexplicably hates him today, is Bellamy’s nineteen-year-old tornado of a little sister. Who is very, very pretty. And the only other person who’s _supposed_  to have a key to the apartment. And usually doesn’t look quite this homicidal.

Well, Lincoln thinks, at least it’s someone he knows and likes. Maybe likes a bit too much for his own good, but he’s not exactly about to do anything about that yet and-

Octavia moans again - no, this time is more like a growl, and herding a hungover underage girl who has bad enough impulse control when sober is totally not how Lincoln planned on spending his morning but again-

“You okay?” he asks, just in case.

“I’m definitely alive,” she mutters. “I can tell because of the pain. Never, never again.”

(Lincoln knows better to ask for details, but he’s definitely a little worried.)

“Wasn’t sure who you were, so...” He moves closer and gives his offerings, hoping she’s not allergic to Tylenol or something or-

“Thanks,” Octavia shrugs, shifting her perch a little on the couch as she downs what has to be like twice the maximum recommended amount of pills. “You can sit if you want.”

“Nah. Easier to take care of you if I’m on my feet.”

Octavia laughs, shaking her head so her mess of long brown hair flies _everywhere_ , and it’s possibly the most erotic thing Lincoln has ever seen in his life even though he knows it wasn’t meant as such. “I can take care of myself, dumbass. Only reason I’m even here is ‘cause you guys live way too close to shitty bars that don’t check ID, and what’s the point of having a key if I never use it, and... yeah. But thank you for being a human.”

“I wasn’t sure who you were,” Lincoln repeats. “There were _options_.”

“Yeah, and my darling brother may or may not have gotten temporarily kidnapped by basically everyone else who’d do this.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story and I’m not actually sure what happened, but... there may or may not be a bachelor party involved for one of the other guys and...”

“And that somehow leads to you passed out on my couch?”

“Not directly but kinda?” 

Against better judgment, Lincoln leans down and hugs Octavia. She feels right in his arms, he thinks, tiny and deceptively fragile but more than capable of taking care of herself and-

“So you knew I was the only person who was gonna take care of you and you still came here?”

“Like I said, convenient,” Octavia laughs. Her mouth is like an inch from his year and again, too much. “But I figured you’d be a little more empathetic than my roommate.”

“Okay then. Anything else I can do?”

“Nothing that wouldn’t be totally awkward for me to ask for.”

“Ask anyways, Tae.”

“Cuddle with me? You’re warm. I like warm.”

Oh, like he’s ever gonna say no to that woman...


	24. every second

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a WHILE, but I still have all the feelings about these babes. (Not to mention probably about fifty prompts saved that I should've done years ago.)

She hit her head on something. That’s all anyone knows for sure. She hit her head on something and she won’t wake up, lingering in a state of almost-but-not-actually-dead, and the lattices of cuts and bruises on her body don’t give any further hints about what happened to her. Until something changes, all anyone can do is wait and see what happens.

Lincoln takes a vigil at his partner’s bedside. He, more than anyone else, has faith in her survival. Perhaps a reflection of the faith he has in her as a _person_ , in the beauty behind the claws. He’s seen her abilities, good and bad and the wide range between, and he loves her more than he knew was possible.

“Wake up, Tae. Please.”

They say she probably can’t hear him, but if she _does_  wake up, a familiar voice will make things easier. And he’s been on the other side, and he will never forget coming back from a harsher death and opening his eyes and seeing her face. He never wanted to be on the other side, yet here they are, years and wars later but the feeling is the same.

“It’s been days. Your heart’s still beating. The rest of you needs to come back too.”

No guesses why she’s in a coma. Even the concussion theory looks dicey after a week. But somehow, she’s not _dead_ , so he stays.

“You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you. You... you said you’d outlast me. I wanted you to mean that. Please, please, wake up.”

(It’s a very long month, but when her eyes finally do open and she reaches for his shaking hands, every second is made worth it.)


	25. go through me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Hands so bloody tastes like honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've missed these babes. They are my forever OTP and I really do need to write them more.

It has been a year and a half since Octavia literally fell into his life, and yet there are days when Lincoln feels like he barely knows her at all. Perhaps because she doesn’t know _herself_  yet, because she’s eighteen and still coming out of her cocoon and discovering what sort of person she’s capable of being, and perhaps because a lot of her method for doing so is trial-and-error and there is absolutely never a dull moment in her wake.

Other days, however, he wishes she wasn’t so predictable. Today is one of those; today, tiny girlfriend decided to pick a fight. Again. And lost. Again. And somehow, somehow it is sorta his fault that all of this happened.

He admires her protectiveness, the way she tries to move heaven and earth to defend the people she loves, and he secretly enjoys being the primary recipient. There are still those in their orbit who disapprove of their relationship, and while most have learned better than to be open about it, there are still a few assholes. Today, one of them made the mistake of saying something to him about it.

Lincoln has spent the last decade or so of his life learning to ignore people who talk about what they don’t understand. By the time he accidentally acquired a less-than-acceptable romantic partner, he was damn good at it, finally a purpose for all his practiced defenses. If he’d been alone at the time, he would’ve been able to tune out the commentary about how he could easily do better than his current choices. (He _knows_  he could do better. He’s reminded of that on a daily basis. He chooses her anyways, because she’s stubborn and beautiful and brings out the best in him and sticks around through the worst.) But no. Of course, this had to happen when she was in earshot, and...

Well...

At least this time she didn’t break or sprain anything. So, it could’ve gone worse. Somehow. Barely.

Octavia makes an unhappy small-animal noise from where she lies on their bed. She’s decidedly unhappy right now, and while that is solidly her own fault and she probably deserves to suffer through the consequences of her latest impulse-control fail, there’s something so beautiful about a lover who not only says she’d bleed for him but _does_  on an all-too-frequent basis and-

“Next time let me handle it, Tae,” he murmurs, pushing wayward hair out of her face.

“You weren’t _going_  to handle it,” she growls. “You never do.”

They’ve had this conversation so many times, about how some fights just aren’t worth it and how much of that list is things people say about him sometimes, but he can’t help but think that maybe after enough repeats she’ll actually learn. “Tae...”

“I’m gonna kill the next one who says I’m only good for breeding. I hate that.”

Okay, he must’ve missed that part. That’s an unusually low insult, and frankly has _nothing_  to do with his choice of partner - Octavia needs to learn how to take care of _herself_  before they even discuss the idea of having kids, thank you very much - and honestly, for the first time since this became a habit, he can’t actually fault her for going into attack mode so easily. Still not an appropriate reaction, but at least an understandable one this time.

“Please. I can defend myself. You know that.”

She reaches out with her less-injured hand and takes his free one, taking her sweet time entwining their fingers. “You _don’t_  though. You just... you let people talk shit about us, you let them hurt you, you don’t fight back.”

“I am trying to help us survive. You... are not making that easy, love.”

“How does this count as surviving?”

“Someday soon, we won’t be the most interesting thing happening here. When that happens... I want a quiet life. With you. And it’ll be easier if half the known world doesn’t have scars from the time they crossed you.”

“Not half the world,” she laughs.

“It’s getting close to that.”

“I don’t want anyone to hurt you again. That’s it. If they want to get to you, they have to go through me first.”

Destructive beauty, like everything else she is. He’s made this choice and gods, in five years when she calms down a little bit, he’s going to love her in ways there won’t even be words for. But first they weather the storms of her transformations, together as best they can.

“It’s how you show love,” he breathes, more to remind himself. “I do value that. I just... I’m getting a little sick of bandaging your wounds.”

“I can bug someone else next time. If that’s easier for you.”

“No. I like knowing what you’ve done. Just... please. Next time. Let me handle it.”

Lincoln knows damn well that his girlfriend will do no such thing. Next time, in a month if he’s lucky and a week if he’s not, she’ll go through the exact same process. She’ll repeat it every time someone dares question why they are what they are to each other.

And every time, as much as he hates this cycle, he’ll be there to clean her cuts and pick up her pieces.


End file.
